


Spanish Rhapsody

by awarrington



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Public Sex, Romance, Size Kink, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/pseuds/awarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca, an English tour guide in Segovia, shows American author Marcus more sites than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanish Rhapsody

**Author's Note:**

> For the second round of the fan media challenge, prompted from a picture of [the aqueduct in Segovia, Spain.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aqueduct_of_Segovia)

“Do I have to?” Esca asked, his mouth thin and downturned as his stomach dropped in consternation. He thought he was going to get the afternoon off, and besides, this was one gig he really didn’t want to do.

Cottia smiled, her teeth looking white against her tanned skinned. “Juan says you know you are the best person for this – your English is the best.” She copied Esca’s expression and then stuck her bottom lip out.

Esca scowled at her for making fun of him, but when she stuck her lip out even more in a really exaggerated pout, he just laughed, and held up his hands. “All right, I’ll do it.”

He needed to work on being better at saying ‘no’.

Freelancing for the local tourist office had been helping pay the rent since he arrived in Segovia a year earlier. Esca might have ended up in Madrid or even Malaga if the lorry driver he’d hitched a lift with in Calais had been going that far. But Segovia it was. He’d run into the amiable bloke a couple of times since, out with his wife and kids. The town was small enough that that wasn’t a surprise.

He didn’t mind this freelance work, as not only was he a history graduate with the Roman era as one of his specialities, he had a natural aptitude for being able to memorise large quantities of facts and data. For the most part, Esca had a spiel he used when guiding groups of tourists – from Japanese to Germans – about the ancient town, with plenty of ad-libbing thrown in depending on both the responsiveness of the group and their level of English.

What was different about Juan’s request was it involved taking one person on a guided tour, an idea he found odd – a bit out of his comfort zone. It made the whole thing a lot more intense, and if the person was annoying, there was no-one else he could focus on.

Juan had told him the bloke was an American, researching a book – but knew no more than that; so it could be an academic piece, which he doubted he’d have enough information about to be of much help, or more likely, the research was for a novel. He considered what kind of person wrote historical novels, thinking _I Claudius_ and a crusty old author like Robert Graves.

Armed with the bloke’s name written on the palm of his hand, Esca strolled down one of the many busy, narrow lanes lined with shops and cafés that led to the central marketplace – the Plaza Mayor – where he was due to meet his client outside the Candido restaurant. Turning right onto the plaza, the most famous – and photographed – part of the city’s Roman aqueduct dominated it; and though he’d seen it hundreds of times, the sheer magnitude of it, standing as a tangible monument to the skills of a long-dead empire, still took his breath away.

Approaching the restaurant, he could see the only person standing there was a man who, by his olive complexion and dark hair, looked local. As he drew nearer, he noticed more about him: that he was tall, and young, and actually bloody fit in his white teeshirt and grey cargo pants.

 _Must be a tourist_ , Esca thought. He’d have clocked him before now if he’d been local: the man was totally his type; big, brawny and pretty. Actually, one of the main reasons he’d chosen to live in a southern European country was for the swarthy good looks of the natives: he was a total sucker for tall, dark and handsome.

His eyes darted around looking for his contact, then back to Mr. Good-Looking who had turned in his direction and was _smiling_ at him. Bloody hell! No way! Esca felt a quickening of his pulse and perhaps more jauntiness to his step as he approached.

Walking up to the bloke, he quickly glanced down at the name scrawled on the palm of his left hand. “Mister Keeler?” he asked, still unsure it was him. By the way the man frowned slightly, he wondered if he’d got the name wrong. He hadn’t seen it written down, just heard Cottia – with her strong Spanich accent – reeling it off.

“Mister Aqui-la – Marcus Aquila.” He’d lost the ‘a’ somewhere and noted the emphasis on the first syllable, said with an American accent. He thrust out his hand with a smile, and took Esca’s in a firm, warm grip. His hands were huge. “You must be Esca?”

“Sorry – yes, Esca MacCunnoval.” He reluctantly released the grip he had on Marcus’ hand, his own suddenly feeling somehow empty – almost too singular – without it. “I didn’t get much information from the tourist info people, just that you wanted a tour of the aqueduct to help you with a book you’re writing. So…do you want me to tell you what I know about it?”

Marcus smiled easily at him. “Sure, why not?”

Standing this close, he was obliged to look up at Marcus as he seemed to tower over him, a good six inch difference in their height. Esca frowned. “You don’t seem certain - I thought that was why you hired me.” Marcus turned his head slightly and the sun caught his eyes turning them from what had looked like hazel, to green, making them very striking, very alluring, like he could just fall into them. Esca unconsciously licked his lips.

Marcus briefly glancing down at Esca’s mouth. “Not just the aqueduct; I kinda wanted to get the feel for the place,” he explained. “Get a lay of the land, where the hills are, and the valleys, the river, you know? I thought a guide would be best able to help. The specific details of the aqueduct I’ll research in detail, though anything you’ve got would be helpful.”

Esca tore himself away from the mesmerising eyes, the handsome face and breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to be drilled for answers that he suspected he didn’t know in near enough the detail he suspected Marcus was after.

“Let’s walk along it and as we go, I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Cool.” Marcus smiled.

Actually, more of a goofy grin, Esca thought, and found himself grinning inanely back. Fuck, focus. The bloke’s probably straight as an arrow. No need to go tying his balls in knots over a breeder. “Which direction do you want to go?”

They ended up heading north, walking right alongside the colossal structure. Esca noticed as he gave an overview of the wall’s history, how Marcus kept running his fingers along the masonry, as though he could absorb some of the wall’s past through his touch. Another thing he noticed once they got going was that Marcus had a slight limp, although he seemed quite happy walking. Nevertheless, mindful of it, Esca let Marcus set the pace.

It took them forty five minutes to reach the end of the wall where the channel was reduced to hip height, and a modest stone plaque marked the spot.

“It’s a shame they can’t tie the date down more than somewhere in the late first, early second century,” Marcus said when Esca was done, “but that will actually help me.”

Esca leant against the stones, feeling the heat of the day absorbed by the ancient granite. September weather wasn’t as hot as high summer, but it was still very warm to someone born in the cool north of England. He still hadn’t fully acclimated and wondered whether he ever would. “What’s the book about?” Esca asked, curious.

“It’s the story of a Roman engineer who’s sent to Segovia to oversee the building of the aqueduct, and what he learns about the empire, the natives and himself from his experiences.”

Having been given the well-rehearsed ‘elevator pitch’, Esca waited for more and when Marcus didn’t expand he prodded him. “So what happens?” He watched in interest as colour crept up Marcus’ face.

“He falls in love with a local, but it causes a lot of problems. It’s what he does to overcome the challenges he faces.”

“Because he’s a Roman?”

Marcus’ hand traced the Spanish words on the plaque, his eyes following his fingers intently. “Because the local’s a man.” With those words, he turned and began to walk back the way they’d come.

Oh. _Oh._

Esca felt a spike of excitement flow through him, like a charge, giving him energy and a sense of elation. Caught off guard, he had to hurry to catch Marcus up, though he still lingered with a small, lascivious smile, the view from behind being what it was. He allowed his eyes to sweep over the muscular back and the way his buttocks flexed in the trousers as he walked – whatever injury had had to his leg, he clearly kept himself in trim. It was only a small step to imagine what Marcus would look like without the clothing.

Enjoying the view altogether too much, Esca stepped up to walk at Marcus’ side. “Weren’t they more open and accepting of homosexuality back then?” he asked casually.

Marcus looked at him as if to gauge what he thought about that, so Esca worked to keep his face neutral, hiding his eagerness to know more.

“The Romans and Greeks were open – although there was a strict code around it – but those mores didn’t extend to the people of this region.” He trailed off into silence, breaking it after a minute or so with what Esca noted was a rather unsubtle change of subject. “So what brings you to this part of the world?”

Esca didn’t push it – after all, while he was now fairly certain Marcus was gay, that information wasn’t reciprocated and he couldn’t work out how to bring up the subject naturally, to let Marcus know. “I wanted a change after uni so I got a ferry to Calais and hitched a lift. This is where the first offer was driving.”

Marcus smiled. “Random.”

Esca shrugged. “Yeah.”

They walked back to the Plaza Mayor in companionable silence, the sun dropping down behind the hills along the way, and Esca realised he didn’t want Marcus to slip through his fingers. They had discussed meeting up the following day to go hiking in the hills to the source of the aqueduct, but he didn’t want to wait that long. He wanted to know more about Marcus now, and really hoped the fact he was writing about a gay love story was because he was so inclined himself.

“Where in America do you live?” Esca asked, hoping it was somewhere obvious like New York or Chicago. His geographical knowledge of the States was limited, so if Marcus said somewhere like Minneapolis, while he might have heard of the place, he wouldn't have a clue where it was: north, south, east or west.

“I was living in San Francisco, but I sold the place before I came to Europe. I’d like to move here, maybe get a house near the Mediterranean – I like being beside the ocean.”

“I think the Med’s classed as a sea,” Esca smiled. “But yeah, I can relate to that. I’ve missed not being on the coast – I grew up in a seaside town. Will you need to get a visa to live in Europe?”

“No, my mom’s American but my father was Italian and I was actually born there but moved to the U.S. when I was a kid. I have dual nationality.”

Esca smiled. “Handy.” They’d come to a halt in the middle of the plaza and Esca watched as Marcus gazed up at the now floodlit edifice rising high above them in a bridge of double arches that crossed the valley close to the old city wall.

“Fancy something to eat?” Esca asked suddenly. “There’s loads of good places around here.”

Marcus looked surprised by the question, then smiled and nodded. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Any preferences?”

Marcus looked over towards the corner where they’d met. “I got here early and while I was waiting, I read the menu at the Candido and it looks good.” Because of its location, it was pricey, so Esca had never eaten there. Something must have shown on his face. “I’ll put it on expenses,” Marcus added.

Inside the furniture was dark and rustic, with about half the tables occupied and they were led by a rotund maitre d’ to a table for two.

Esca wanted to dig a bit more, get to know Marcus better. “So you’re big enough your publishers pay you expenses for your research?”

Marcus nodded. “This is my fourth book – they’re all set in Roman times and have done pretty well.”

“Sorry, I haven’t read any,” Esca felt compelled to say and glanced down at the menu.

“You probably wouldn’t – it’s a niche market.”

With the success of the Claudius books, Esca would have thought there’d be quite an interest in Roman historical fiction. “Because they’re set in Roman times?”

“Because they’re all gay fiction,” Marcus said, apparently studying his menu intently.

Esca swallowed. So not just this book, but all of them; that was the confirmation he was looking for. Here was his moment to put it out there. Reaching across the table, he brushed his fingers over Marcus’ knuckles where he clutched the menu, as though he could use it as a shield to ward off potential homophobic comments. “Then that would be a market I’d be interested in.”

Marcus eyes snapped up, holding Esca’s as he smiled. A slow grin spread over his face. “Yeah?” he asked, twisting his hand to capture Esca’s fingers.

Esca grinned back. “Yeah.”

And that’s how come, two hours and a lot of flirting later, having walked along the aqueduct, south this time to beyond the area that was illuminated, Esca paused by one of the arches, standing beneath it in the shadows in obvious invitation. They were on a small side-street, devoid of people or traffic, not very well lit, so he felt safe enough. Marcus turned and came to stand in front of him.

“I fancied you before I even knew you were the bloke I was meant to be meeting,” Esca confessed, three glasses of wine easing his nerves.

“I guessed who you were when you were walking towards me – your colouring stands out round here,” he smiled, “and I can tell you the attraction was…is mutual.” With that, he stepped right up to Esca so that he had to lift his chin to look at him.

Marcus reached out and cupped his cheek, then leant down until their lips touched, Esca opening his mouth hungrily, as though he hadn’t just eaten, this nourishment feeding a different need entirely. As their tongues slid together, it ignited a flame in him, and grabbing Marcus by the hips, he pulled the larger man hard against him, sliding his leg between Marcus’ muscled thighs. He could feel Marcus’ arousal against his hip, his own swollen flesh pressing urgently back. The kiss was fiery and needful, like Marcus had a raging thirst and Esca had the power to quench it.

The cool stones of the ancient monument at Esca’s back were a balm to his heated skin as he rhythmically pushed and swayed his hips, his cock rigid and ready. Marcus slid his hand between them, palming him through his jeans, rubbing maddeningly at the sensitive head. The touch turned the flame into a fire within him as he groaned into the hot mouth, and he moved his hand to reciprocate, feeling the measure of Marcus’ arousal, hard and heavy, through the thin fabric of his trousers. It didn’t take long for the heat to build up, starting in his belly and spreading through his groin, kissing Marcus almost savagely until one final thrust brought staccato waves of pleasure crashing over him. A moment later, Marcus grunted into his mouth as his cock jumped and pulsed rhythmically in completion, leaving a warm, damp patch in its wake.

Esca pulled back and viewed Marcus through heavy-lidded eyes. “Fuck, it’s been years since I came in my pants,” he smiled ruefully. “Worth it, though.”

“Yeah,” Marcus shook his head as if in disbelief, a look of chagrin on his face. “Been a while for me too.” He smiled and gently carded his hands through Esca’s hair. “So…after what we’ve just shared, it’s a bit late, but wanna come back to my hotel for uh…coffee?”

Esca leaned into the affectionate touch, regarding him wryly, one eyebrow arching. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Or tea. Or more wine.” Apparently unable to hold Esca’s gaze, he looked down and added in a quieter voice, his lips quirking in a shy smile, “And if you’re okay with it, fucking me through the floor wouldn’t go amiss.” He glanced back up, a look of hope in his eyes.

Despite having felt sated only moments earlier, Esca felt a sharp surge of arousal and grinned. “You know, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

[finis]


End file.
